Sandlecastles
by DearSweetPapercut
Summary: "As the whiskey settled on her tongue she realised that she had placed a world worth of distance between them herself. They would lay inches apart while oceans rages havoc between them."


This took a week of struggling through to write, I'm not sure what happened exactly but it's a non-Sandle Sandle fic.

Review and let me know what you think.

Disclaimer: I own zilch.

**Sandcastles **

Over the years she had found that you don't really know someone until you've watched them. Until you've seen them act the way they do when you're not around. Until you've seen them just being them. It was a lesson she had learnt the hard way but after all of these years it was one she was thankful for. _Take a step back before taking a step forward. _And as Sara became a part of the furniture remaining firmly in place in the darkened corner she had chosen for that evening of drowning her sorrows she realised she had broken one of her own rules.

He was leaning against the bar with his back to her his eyes focused on the screen of his phone as he waited for a bar tender to notice him. She could have recognised him simply from his broad shoulders, the curls of blonde hair he hadn't been able to tame at the back of his neck and from the way he stood. She knew him by those things and less. Simply the sound of his voice, the way he cleared his throat or the sharp intakes of breath between words were enough these days.

She had seen on the cover of a glossy magazine an article about how friends make the best lovers. And despite all of her determination to convince herself that was simply a lie to sell copies of the pseudo love science propagated by celebrities for impressionable teenage girls she found her arguments falling flat in comparison to the data points she had collected. She had tried to convince herself it was not the same thing, they were _best_ friends.

Their relationship was far more complex than one Cosmopolitan could even begin to understand. They had known each other for thirteen years. They were colleagues. And sometimes when they were in silence she would convince herself they were soul mates. Greg could sense the slightest changes in her mood and the meanings of her frantic whispers. And all of the small things he knew about her made him a better lover. He knew how to touch her without instructions- he had done from the very first time.

He knew more about her than she was willing to share with anyone else but he was still a mystery to her. As she remained silently watching him she still found herself struggling to unravel the man she had so easily let into her bed. Greg turned his back to the bar while his drink was being prepared, cracking his knuckles as he studied the people that had gathered at the various tables that surrounded him.

Sara realised that she had never paid enough attention to have taken note of his habits. She still sometimes found herself asking him how he liked his coffee, which side of the bed he preferred or where he kept his spare key. Greg had always been happy chasing her, spending his time getting to know her hoping that his small gestures would impress her. She had gotten used to him always having her coffee ready in the mornings, picking her up when she'd had a few too many drinks at a bar and helping her with her paperwork when he had enough work of his own to be dealing with.

Her attention was drawn to the woman gradually sidling closer to him as the masses jostled for position in the bar. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a slick pony tail, the dark material of her dress only drawing more attention to the clear blue colour of her eyes. Her gaze was focused firmly on Greg as took the place next to him, her hand causally reaching for the same drink as him as if it were her order. Perhaps in the moment that might have seemed like a genuine mistake but from a distance it was obviously manufactured moment in order to get his attention.

He didn't falter offering the young woman the drink before he placed another order for himself. Her hand found his arm in a way of thanks while she glanced shyly up at him from under thick fake lashes. Her dress pulled his attention to all of the parts of her body she knew would have him before she said hello. Had this been a few months ago Sara would have played match maker pushing him towards a girl just like her but this wasn't three months ago.

A lot had happened in that time. She had bedded him exactly three months ago. She could still remember how strange it felt waking in a room that was not her own and feeling as if she was in the only place in the world she needed to be. The smell of his skin had slowly started to become home from that day forward. She would never have told him but she had spent hours memorising the fine details of his sleeping form for fear that at any moment he might be taken away.

The fear that he would disappear into dust had haunted her, every fibre of her being wanted more than anything to claim him for her own. As the whiskey settled on her tongue she realised that she had placed a world worth of distance between them herself. They would lay inches apart while oceans rages havoc between them.

The first time he had attempted to talk about the moments they had shared in the darkened corners of his bedroom she had told him that they didn't need words. She had claimed that labels would just hold them back because in the end what did it matter, they were together (in the confines of that room at least). It wasn't enough for him. She could sense that he had been growing steadily discontented with the silence she had tried to enforce. And if she was completely honest she wanted more.

Sara would watch him as he worked, or while they were in team meetings the desire to push him against the wall and kiss him senseless in front of all the people they knew picking at the surface of her skin. But she would simply just smile politely and hope that the feeling would pass. They were on thin ice, on borrowed time, one day the sand would run out and they would burn out. People were still cautious to use the name of her ex-husband; they still looked at her with the same confused pity that made the air thin around her. This time it would be her fault, her failure. It was nothing something she wanted for them to know.

From her seat Sara realised she was watching them fall apart, it was too late for them to save the strange infatuation they had developed for each other. He had gradually become more disillusioned with her; after all of these years he found himself still stuck on the outside. His patience hadn't paid off they were still stuck somewhere in between, in a halfway kind of love.

Greg leant across, pressing his lips against the girls kissing her tenderly, his hand flat on her back pulling her body flush against his. His surprisingly forward behaviour had caught her off guard, her hands resting on his shoulders in order to keep her balance. A strange feeling churned in the pit of Sara's stomach as she watched them from a distance, her body fighting against the feelings that settled beneath her skin.

She had no right to stop him. It was based on her request that he had not committed himself to her. It was because of her distance that he'd given up and decided to move on.

The girl rocked back on her heels, her cheeks coloured red from the sudden rush. Greg muttered something to her and without hesitation she moved into action the sound of her heels clicking as she headed towards the door. Greg remained where he was, watching her walk away as he finished the rest of his drink in one swing. He tucked his hands into his pockets but surprisingly he didn't follow her out of the door moving across the floor to where Sara was sitting a dark look clouded his hazel eyes.

He had changed a lot since the first time they had met. Lines had appeared at the corner of his eyes and mouth from every one of the smiles and frowns that had passed by in the last thirteen years. His hair had become neutral since he had given up on the dyes and bleaches the natural blonde had taken some adjusting to. The brightly coloured shirts and almost offensive t-shirts had been swapped for well fitted suits.

He looked ever the professional these days.

That particular night he was wearing a grey suit she had helped him chose, the dark blue shirt unbuttoned at the top and his tie tucked into the jacket pocket. It had been a long day. It was easy enough to tell from the stubble that was creeping up towards his cheek bones he was usually always clean shaven.

There was also another part of him that she hadn't discovered until they had begun their entanglement; the man underneath all of the clothes and the cover-ups. She would trace the scars that were scattered across his back from the explosion at the lab. She had almost memorised the freckles that dusted his shoulders and the trail of fine hairs that lead to...

"Sara" Her name sounded odd on his lips when he was looking at her as if she were a complete stranger. She gave a small nod not saying a word waiting for him to verbalise the thoughts that were taking up his attention span. "Are you going to ask me to stay?" he questioned raising his eyebrows at her.

"It looks like you have somewhere else to be, so no" Sara shook her head, tucking her ink black hair behind her ears, pursing her lips keeping her dark eyes focused on the almost empty glass of whiskey ahead of her.

"And that's all you have to say?" Greg shook his head, gritting his teeth, pressing his stern lips together as if biting back all of the things that he wanted to say.

"What can I say, she's hot... well done Greg, have a great night but spare me the details tomorrow." She narrowed her eyes at him, shrugging her shoulders as if she were completely innocent in all of this. She knew full well that she had pushed them towards this moment, towards the ending they were clearly going to fall for.

"Why do you care what I do right?" He clicked his tongue glancing around the bar one more to check that his date hadn't reappeared.

"Exactly" Sara gave him the brightest smile she could muster hoping that he would buy it despite how obviously empty it was "It's not like you care what I do either"

"You know that's not true. If I didn't care for you I wouldn't have carried on with this little charade for so long. I cared too much apparently." Greg snapped his head back focusing on her once again wanting more than anything for her to say something that would convince him to stay. But it was like waiting for rainfall in the dessert, she would never put her pride aside and just admit for the sake of them both that he was more than a human sex toy for her.

"I told you, I wasn't the right person for you. I told you this wouldn't work" She hissed at him urging him to understand.

"Maybe I thought I could change your mind."He looked defeated. She had worn him down like she done everyone else that had tried to move closer to her.

"How did you think you would Greg? By saving me" Sara quirked her eyebrows at him leaning back against the wall waiting for an explanation of his intentions.

"Saving you from what? Yourself- because that's the only thing you need saving from." Greg raised his hands as if surrendering to her but the harshness of his tone cutting that image down quicker than she could say 'sorry'.

"You're not in a good mood are you?" She gave a humourless laugh, raising her eyebrows at him. The air around them seemed to suddenly thicken, the atmosphere weighing down around them as each breath came quick. "Getting laid should fix that" Greg didn't say a word as he remained firmly in the space by her table waiting for something. "Why are you talking to me Greg? Just go, Miss fake boobs is waiting"

"I guess I thought that maybe you'd suddenly realise that you did care for me a little bit and that I did mean something to you...but I was obviously very wrong about you." He gave her a sad smile.

"Well it turns out I disappointed you as much as I've done everyone else in my life" Sara carefully met his gaze but instead of the comfort she usually found there was nothing. The way he was looking at her had changed so much in the past three months she often found herself wondering how they had lost each other so quickly.

"You're the one in the driving seat Sara, its no-one else's fault if you keep driving off cliffs." Greg stated before turning and walking away.

There was nothing more to say.

**The End **


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